


Slip and swing

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22708672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Poetry/story thing??It's not good but I've been feeling angsty
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	Slip and swing

Six years old  
We sat on the swings.  
I lifted my feet off of the ground and kicked off.  
The wind in my hair and no weight on my shoulders.

Seventeen years old  
We sat on the swings.  
Dark starry nights reflected in your eyes.  
Boney bodies and warm hands.  
Delicate fingers in my hair.

Seventeen years old   
We're sitting beside the swings, soft green grass.  
Shoulders heavy with life.  
Secrets kept,  
Weighing us down,  
Your hands are back,  
Your breath is light,  
It makes it easier.

(I hope I do the same for you.)

All the years of sitting on the grass.  
Past eighteen and on to nineteen.

Holding the unbearable weight of life.  
Somehow they know.  
Knew how we loved.  
Knew our shared breath.

You're hurt.  
And it's my fault.  
Filthy secrets I failed to keep.

Twenty years old.  
I'm sitting on the swings.  
I'm alone this time.

(Drift away.)

You have work today.  
It's hard.  
You told me.  
Being alive.

I could feel your regret,  
Like you said something too true.  
Confessed something secret.  
Even to me.

(Fall apart.)

You called again.  
Cried over the receiver.  
I tried to help you,  
But you're mad at me too.  
Mad at me and my love.  
( Twisted love.)

You swung,  
But,  
Not on the swings.

(Crushed up.)

It was sick.  
You wrote to me.  
It was sick. And I loved it.

Black suits.  
Black dresses.

Dark roses around your picture.  
Empty words from people on stage.

Angry looks cast my way.  
It's your fault.  
They say.  
Your toxic pollution took him away.

(I'm sorry.)

Twenty-one years old.  
I'm sitting on the swings.  
Empty wine bottles,  
Lonely fingers.  
It's our anniversary.

(I'm still sorry)

My shoulders are heavy.  
You aren't here to help lighten them.

I think life is winning.

I'm too heavy to swing.  
I sit by myself.  
In the grass,  
It's not looking so green anymore.

You swung.  
I slipped.  
Far and fast.  
For a second I was light.

I'm still toxic,  
But I won't pollute anyone else.  
Not like I did you.

(Im still so sorry.)

I'm light again,  
( For a moment.)  
The concrete is hard.  
( Thankfully.)


End file.
